


Light

by foryouandbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon typical alcohol use, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Typical Hockey Violence, references to Jack's overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: A companion fic toEric Bittle, NBC 10where Jack took part in the draft, Tater learns the truth about Kent and Jack's previous relationship. This alters Tater's perception of Kent enough to cross paths with him again and again. Over the course of several years, Tater and Kent grow closer to each other and fall slowly in love.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luckie_dee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for my dear friend [Luckie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee), who loves Patater so much that she somehow got me both to read it AND write about it! Happy birthday friend! ~~Does this mean that I ship Patater now?~~
> 
> While it doesn't matter too much to enjoy the story, Jack follows this sort of timeline: he gets drafted and a few days after signing, he overdoses. He does not lose his contract, but he is bumped down to the Falc's feeder team, the Louisville Cardinals. He works hard, proves himself, and is called up to the Falcs midway through his first season.

While it was simple to figure out the exact date they met, since it was recorded in the Falconers' archives, Alexei Mashkov could not remember his first meeting with Kent Parson. After years of trying to pinpoint how they acted or if something significant had occurred when one checked the other, Alexei finally gave up. Kent was not important at the time, just another player on another team from a different conference. He didn't matter unless it was a Stanley Cup final match up, and when Alexei was a rookie, that was far from plausible. Alexei had to resign himself to the fact that when they first met, neither cared about the other.

Alexei knew minor facts about Kent; he was a Calder winner after all, a number one draft pick, and arguably the best player in the sport, along with the other recent greats such as Sidney Crosby and Jack Zimmermann. Those minor facts never translated into anything while on the ice, however, so Kent remained just another player in the way of a Falconers victory until the night of Jack's twenty-first birthday, when everything changed.

It was still the off-season; a fair few of the Falcs were out of town for the summer, either back in their home country or off enjoying quality time with their families before hockey dominated their time again, but there were enough left in town to demand the rite of passage into adulthood with a night of drunken debauchery at Providence's best nightclubs. No one had ever seen Jack Zimmermann drink an adult beverage and now that their recently-crowned captain was allowed to do so, it was top priority for the other teammates to witness.

"No, guys, I really don't want to do anything," said Jack during his birthday brunch. Snowy had been inching a Bloody Mary in Jack's direction for five minutes. "Thanks for taking me to brunch. This is enough."

"Jack," said Thirdy, "it's your twenty-first birthday. You only get one of these. We'll go to one bar downtown, the one we know Tater can get into. We'll get a private room, and it'll just be us. You can drink shitty lite beer or the fanciest cocktails money can buy. Either way, you should drink something —"

"I said I don't want to, okay?" said Jack, his thick brown eyebrows narrowing into the expression he usually pulled right before he was about to drop his mitts.

"But Jack —"

"He said no, leave it alone," interjected Alexei, and Thirdy put his hands up in surrender. Snowy drank the rest of the Bloody (along with the pickles and bacon that had been shoved inside the mug), they finished brunch, and Alexei walked with Jack back to his car.

"Thanks for having my back, T," said Jack, not quite smiling when he looked over at Alexei.

"Hey, drinking not everyone's thing," said Alexei. "Why not you come to dinner at my place, yeah? No drinks, just Chinese and fortune cookies."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Tater."

"See you later, Zimmboni," said Alexei.

The takeout arrived that evening just as Jack pulled into the visitor's parking space in front of Alexei's condo. Alexei was at the front door signing for the food when Jack came up the drive, wearing his usual off day attire — a Providence Falconers T-shirt and jeans. Jack lowered his Falconers Hockey hat down over his eyes as the delivery girl passed him. Alexei didn't have that problem. He was good at what he did, he played well and had enough income to pay for a property like this, big and spacious and right on the water, but was not so good that he had to worry about delivery girls recognizing his address or getting stopped in the street. Jack, just coming out of his full rookie year and already the captain of the team, was the face of the franchise. The Falconers were Providence's only major league team and Jack's face was on every billboard in the city. Alexei had yet to decide if he was jealous or relieved.

Jack followed Alexei through the condo to the dining room, where Alexei set the plastic bag of food onto the table. "How long have you lived here, T?" Jack asked. When Alexei glanced over his shoulder, Jack's eyes were traveling over the bright paint colors and white crown molding lining the ceiling.

"Brand new. Few months."

"It's…I don't know. Surprising."

"Why? Because it not reflect my bright personality?"

"Haha, exactly, T."

"I very offended, Zimmboni. You unpack food," said Alexei as he entered the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and called over to Jack, "What you want drink?"

"Do you have any beer?"

Alexei couldn't see Jack from this angle so he didn't bother to hide the surprise on his face. He stared at the shelf full of beer until Jack appeared casually at the doorway to the kitchen. "Do you?" he asked again.

"I thought Captain was too good for beer."

"Nah, I just don't like it that much. And I don't like how the guys get when they're drunk. It is my birthday, though. I should do something." Alexei grabbed two cans of Pawtucket Pail Ale and handed one over to Jack. Jack popped the tab on the way back to the dining room, where they sat across from each other and began poorly utilizing chopsticks to eat lo mein out of the carton. Jack was quiet, concentrating mostly on the food, until he stood up and grabbed a second beer from the fridge, not long after he finished his first.

Once the carton was empty and the second can was too, Jack wouldn't shut up.

"I wish I could just go out to the bar and get wasted with the rest of you," said Jack. He was picking at a noodle at the bottom of the carton but kept twisting the chopsticks in his hands. There was a high flush on the crest of his cheekbones, and Alexei, despite knowing the contrary, wondered if Jack had ever had alcohol in his life. "I know it's technically legal for me now, but it's just not something I can do. People know who I am and they know my…they know what happened to me. It wasn't that long ago that they called me up."

"You're the captain now, Zimmboni. No one thinks you'll get bumped down again."

"But I'm the captain now — this is brand new. I know people are just waiting for me to fuck it up again. I hear what they say about me. They don't shut up about me. 'Zimmermann can't handle this kind of pressure. It's just a matter of time before he implodes and he OD's again. He's too young for this responsibility.' Like I haven't lived with the weight of the world on my shoulders since I was born."

"You —"

"He put me in the fucking Cup when I was a baby, T. Slid me right inside the bowl when I was just a couple of months old. If that's not pressure I don't know what is."

"At least you just have one sport parent. I told 'Be professional hockey player or nothing else' by both parents. My mother Olympic medalist in figure skating. My father Olympic medalist and 20 years Super League. I had no other option."

"Did you ever want to do anything else?" Jack asked.

"No. Did you?"

"No," said Jack. "But you didn't have an OD to explain away. People don't understand the difference between prescribed anxiety meds and heroin."

"You didn't come to this country not knowing word of English."

Jack downed the rest of can number three and slammed it onto the table.

"Yeah? Well add being gay on top of all of that."

Alexei stared blankly, not because he was shocked, but because he could relate.

"You are gay?"

"Well, no, not really," said Jack. "If you have to put a label on it, I'm bisexual, but no one ever understands the bi part. You like boys so you're automatically gay. There is no in between."

Alexei tightened his grip on the sweating can in front of him. It would have been the perfect moment to say it out loud for the first time, something Alexei had known for years but refused to verbalize because that sort of thing just wasn't allowed in Russia. He wasn't in Russia anymore, and it would have been so easy to just say "Me too, Zimmboni," but that was a conversation for more than just a couple of beers on a Wednesday evening.

"I'm glad you tell me, Zimmboni," was all he said instead. "No thing wrong with being gay."

"Bi," corrected Jack.  "See? You can't be in between. Whatever. Just don't tell anyone, okay, T? I mean it. No one. I'm not ready for that. People will ask questions and it's only a matter of time before they connect the dots, and I don't want to out him without him knowing."

"Out who? You have boyfriend?"

"Not anymore," muttered Jack as he headed back to the kitchen for yet another one.

"Oh," said Alexei. "Oh! Kent Parson was boyfriend?"

Jack returned, looking more angry at himself than at Alexei for verbalizing the assumption. Jack popped the tab and sat back down.

"That took you two seconds to string together," he replied before he took a heavy sip. "Imagine how quickly the press would guess it. That's not my story to tell. And now I've told you. Shit. Kenny's going to kill me. Don't talk about it, okay?"

"Zip my lip, Zimmboni."

"Don't let me have any more, okay?" Jack asked, tipping his can toward Alexei in a salute. Alexei tipped his can back.

"Okay. No more drinking for either of us. We forget tonight and go on tomorrow like world just turned without any words."

"Exactly," said Jack.

 

***

 

Despite the promise to forget that Jack spoke at all during his birthday dinner, Alexei could not forget the confirmation that Jack and Kent Parson were once boyfriends. It intrigued Alexei more than anything — there had been rumors for years, but Alexei was not one for rumors — so when they traveled to Las Vegas for their first bout against the Aces, Alexei could not quash the desire to watch the pair interact.

The difference was noticeable immediately. The press liked to play up the rivalry between the two of them, and Alexei had always assumed that Jack played harder because he wanted to prove he should have gone first in that draft instead of Kent, but Alexei could see plain as day how differently both Kent and Jack acted as soon as warm ups began. Kent stared daggers at Jack from across the line dividing their warm up space, and Jack blatantly ignored Kent at every turn.

The press always liked to play up these matches as if they meant more than they did; it was November, less than twenty games into the season, and the Aces were in a completely different conference. Apart from overall points, nothing about this game really mattered, yet the signs from the fans in the stadium were all directed at Jack specifically, the game was televised nationally, and every press outlet from both Canada and the United States was there, asking players how they felt about that evening's match up. Alexei had answered several questions after practice just about Jack, and how Jack felt about facing Kent Parson again.

"We all play hard as can," said Alexei. "All focused on win."

Alexei's interviews never lasted very long when he played up his accent.

He could feel the shift at the first face off, and maybe part of it was his own fault for looking for something that could not have been there. It felt different, it felt more important than just an early season game against an irrelevant team. He could see it in the way Kent's eyes stared through his visor at Jack rather than at the puck but still managed to win the face off anyway.

Alexei's eyes followed Kent through the rest of the first period; they frequently played the same shift, but even from the bench Alexei couldn't stop watching him. When Jack and Kent were on the ice at the same time, Kent became a different player. Less focused on the goal and more focused on impeding Jack's progress, Kent frequently glanced around for refs before tripping, cross checking, holding, and ruining every one of Jack's chances to make anything happen.

By the third period, the game was scoreless and Alexei had had enough. No one could get any momentum going with the captains at each other on every shift. Kent had avoided every penalty he'd committed so far, and the referees seemed to avoid watching him despite his obvious agenda. Finally Marty tipped a goal in with just four minutes left in play, and on the very next face off, after Jack passed the puck to Alexei and Alexei darted toward the goal, Kent pushed Jack roughly onto the ice and swatted at Jack's leg with his stick.

Alexei lost possession in his frustration; he headed back in the other direction and could see number 90 directly in front of him, puckless, headed to take a pass in the offensive zone. Alexei sped up and overtook him, tumbling him forward and face first onto the ice, Alexei falling directly on top of him and pinning him down.

"Get the fuck off me!" Kent yelled.

"Get over yourself, Parson. Jack not your toy anymore," Alexei muttered.

Kent looked over his shoulder, the recognition strong in his gray eyes. He flipped Alexei off him and shoved him against the boards. "Fuck you, man, you know nothing," he spat. He shoved Alexei another time and attempted to get up, but Alexei grabbed him by the ends of his jersey and crashed him back to the ice. "Let me go, asswipe!" Kent swung at him with a gloved fist and Alexei's head bounced against the boards. His gloves were off in an instant, taking as many shots as he could underneath Kent's visor, out for blood.

Play had been blown dead and teammates from both sides were grasping at them to stop, but they were rolling around each other on the ice, throwing punches whenever possible, pushing back each other's loose helmets to get at more skin. Eventually Kent's helmet fell off and Alexei could smash his face directly onto the ice. Kent yelled and hit him in the temple, knocking Alexei's helmet askew so Alexei was partially blinded. Alexei ripped it off and then took one more shot at Kent, connecting hard with his nose and finally drawing blood.

The hands on his jersey pulled more forcefully now, getting him far enough away that he couldn't reach Kent any longer. He sat on the ice five feet away from his opponent, and a ref appeared directly in his line of sight. "Game misconduct. Out. Now."

Alexei spat onto the ice; none of his teeth were gone, thankfully, but he'd chomped on his tongue at some point and his spit came out red. Jack helped him up and headed with him to the bench. Alexei didn't look at him — the reasoning behind the fight was clear and Alexei didn't want a lecture as well as a game penalty. Jack sat down on the bench and Alexei continued down the rampway, his helmet in his hand, his gloves and stick missing. He touched his fingers surreptitiously to his temple and they came away bloody as well.

"Fucking Parson," he muttered and continued to the dressing room.

The bleeding stopped after a shower. Alexei changed into his after-game suit before the rest of the team was off the ice. As soon as they were, however, the media was amped and ready for a debrief interview with him. He sat in his stall with three cameras and seven microphones pointed at him. As usual, NBC got the first question.

"Alexei, what happened out there that instigated that fight?"

Alexei shook his head.

"A lot of things. Game very frustrating. Hard to possess puck, hard to make play. Parson in my way all night."

"How did you feel about the refereeing tonight?"

Alexei knew when he was being instigated and he didn't need to make this bigger than it was. "Difficult on both sides. I very glad we sneak out win in the end. Marty's goal important goal for us," he said. Before anyone else could speak up with another question down the same road, he continued: "Good win and ready to move on. Looking forward to Monday against Rangers. That game important for division."

It provided a necessary segue to preparation for the New York game, and after two more questions they wrapped up. When Alexei was allowed to leave, Jack was still in his uniform wiping the sweat off his face while the conglomerate of cameras surrounded his stall. Jack glanced at Alexei, as if silently asking him to stay behind, but he headed out without a word. When he turned the corner toward the empty corridor that led to the exit, he ran into Kent Parson again.

Alexei's eyes narrowed when Kent just smirked and leaned against the wall, bathed in the dim light from the fluorescent bulbs above.

"You waiting out here for me?" Alexei asked.

"You have a lot of fire in you," said Kent.

This wasn't a conversation Alexei wanted to have. He'd avoided most of the people who were ready to give him a lecture on unnecessary fighting. Short bouts of fisticuffs weren't uncommon when tension ran high, especially in games such as that evening where fifty-six minutes passed without a point, but there was no need for the amount of pummeling that occurred during their wrestling match on the ice.

"Alexei Mashkov," said Kent, as if trying it out in his mouth. "You know, I've never even heard of you before. You a rook?"

Alexei wished he'd never heard of Kent Parson before.

"No. Second year."

"Hmm." Kent's pale eyes looked him over from his brown shoes, black socks, navy suit, no tie, up to his shaggy black hair, still damp at the nape from his shower. "You and Jack friends?"

Alexei could hear the implication before Kent finished his sentence, which caused him to huff and head forward toward the exit. "Bye, Parson."

"Whoa, I'm just asking! Didn't mean to offend a friend."

"I not your friend, Kent Parson." Alexei returned, rounding back on Kent. Now closer and on even footing, Alexei could see how small Kent actually was. His eyes looked at Alexei's chin, his arms underneath his black suit jacket toned but slender, like the rest of him. Alexei took pride in his height and his strength, and it was a wonder he had not squashed Kent like a bug on the ice. "I want nothing to do with you. You are petty and rude."

"Rude? I didn't knock you over with no reason."

"You rile up Jack all night! You never leave him alone!"

"And he wouldn't leave me alone either! Tonight was not exclusive to me, Mashkov."

"You were unnecessary."

"Not the first time I've been called that," said Kent with an eyebrow raised into the messy blond hairs that fell over his forehead. "Listen, I just wanted to make peace. I don't hold any hard feelings, but I need to make this clear. What you think you know, or what you may have been told, is only one side of the story. I'm not the bad guy here."

"You act like you want to be."

"I'll say it again. You hit me first."

"And I would hit you again. You not so tough in empty hallway in your fancy suit."

"Hey, don't knock the suit. I at least have the decency not to wear black socks with brown shoes." Alexei looked down at his socks, just peeking out from the hem of his pants, and then looked back at Kent, whose black suit looked like it cost more than Alexei's first paycheck. "You're clearly not the fashionable kind of gay."

Alexei's eyes widened and then quickly darted to the hallway; they were still alone, and Kent's voice was quiet enough not to carry to unseen corridors.

"I — I not gay."

"Sure, sure," said Kent, and he put his hands up. "See you in January, Alexei."

Alexei watched Kent saunter up the ramp, back into the arena. His steps were assured, confident, his hips swaying back and forth as he took his runway walk back to his team. Alexei cursed himself inside his head for staring, but there was no stopping it. Kent was good at walking away.


	2. Two

They met again in January, this time in Providence. The Falconers hadn't been doing that bad, actually, under Jack's new direction. They were over .500 as they headed officially into the second half of the season, and while this game was not going to make or break that standing, Alexei found himself nervous as he laced up in his stall. He stared across the logo to Jack, whose stall sat directly across from his, and wondered if behind that stoic, media-ready face, Jack felt the same.

There had been a conversation in the car on the way to the arena that morning, after Jack had offered a ride and picked Alexei up at home. While this wasn't uncommon, since Jack's normal route to the arena took him within five minutes of Alexei's condo, the reasoning was as clear as the water in the bay in Alexei's backyard. Jack had been pleasant at first, complimenting Alexei's house as it shone in the sun on the first cloudless day in weeks, chatting about upcoming trades George and the managers were thinking about making to help beef up their lines to finish the rest of the year strong. It was a good enough conversation that carried them all the way over the bridge, and Alexei thought he'd be able to get through the entire ride without the warning he expected, until Jack quieted after a laugh ("No, Tater, we're not trading you. I'd never let them do that."), and Alexei felt the nerves return at the bottom of his throat.

"You know," Jack said, his tone falsely light, "I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"I'm D-man. I fight all your battles."

"You know what I mean, T," said Jack, and he glanced over at Alexei before returning his eyes to the road. "With Parse. He and I have a long history and a lot to say that we refuse to say. He's got reason to want to kick my ass all the time."

"What happened last time, Jack, it was just fluke," said Alexei, but he stared out the window at the buildings of downtown Providence as he said it. "We all frustrated, no one can score, and he was in wrong place at wrong time."

"Yeah, I don't believe you," said Jack. "I understand the sentiment and I appreciate it, I really do, Tater, but he's not worth you losing focus. Let me handle Parse. You just avoid getting another game penalty, okay?"

"Yes, Captain," said Alexei.

Kent seemed to have other ideas, however. After a snide smirk in Alexei's direction after a rough check in the first period, Kent seemed to be everywhere Alexei didn't want him to be. Kent sneaked by every opportunity he could, avoiding Alexei's checks and getting off shots on goal in a way that Alexei couldn't prevent. He was speedy for sure, speedier than Alexei remembered during their last match up, and considerably more nubile. When Alexei stuck his stick out for the puck, Kent changed direction with a shower of snow. When Alexei attempted to check, Kent skated just out of his reach. When Alexei attempted to push, Kent ducked under his arms like a child playing tag, leaving nothing but a laugh in his wake. Because of this, Kent scored two goals in the first twenty minutes of gameplay.

"I thought you say you handle him," said Alexei on the way to the dressing room with Jack after the first period ended. "I can't catch him. You need to handle him."

"I've got him. You focus on the others," said Jack through his teeth.

It didn't matter; nobody had Kent Parson that game. By the first TV time out in the second period, Kent had a hatty, the Aces were up by four, and Coach had replaced Snowy with their back up goalie. Alexei skated around his defensive zone, hiding behind his blue line, when Kent wandered his way looking entirely too pleased with himself. Alexei tensed at his approach.

"Lighten up, Mashkov," he said, his voice rich with laughter that made Alexei's blood boil. "We're halfway there. _Ohhhhhhh we're halfway there_ ," Kent sang, smiling brightly as Alexei sneered back at him. " _Ohhh! Living on a prayer!_ What? They not have Bon Jovi back in Russia?"

"They have Bon Jovi in Russia," snapped Alexei. "You just not funny."

"I'm hilarious, Mashkov," said Kent, his smile disturbingly infectious. They were at home, they were down by four and facing their first shut out of the season. The fans in the upper decks were already starting to leave. There was absolutely no reason to smile, certainly not in front of Kent Parson and his squiggles of wild blond hair that escaped from under his helmet and fell over his forehead. "There you go, give me a smile. Like you said last time, we're not an opponent who counts."

"You tell me what to do again and I punch your teeth out of your mouth."

"Ah, but then I'll just have an even more charming smile," smiled Kent, and Alexei pursed his lips together when Kent flashed him a radiant white smile. Before Alexei could reply again, Jack was by his side, staring down Kent with pupils the size of dots.

"Enough, Parse," snarled Jack.

"You always ruin the fun, Zimms," said Kent, his smile gone, his expression hard. Kent skated away and the ice crew headed off the ice. Alexei refused to look at Jack, not wanting to see the warning glare that surely was pointed in his direction.

Kent fortunately did not score another goal, and Jack got one in just before the buzzer in the third period, thankfully avoiding the shut out, but nothing about that evening had been pretty. Kent was smug all the way off the ice; Alexei could see him coming and darted to the bench to avoid him altogether.

Kent seemed to know where to find him when it was time to leave. Alexei leaned against the wall outside the locker room, waiting for Jack, when Kent strolled up in his post-game suit (still black, but this time with a flattering iridescent green shirt that changed the color of this eyes). "Hey Mashkov," he said casually, as if they were old friends.

"What you want, Parson?"

"Let's grab a drink."

"You joke well, little rat," said Alexei. He stood tall so he could tower over Kent, who didn't seem the least bit fazed by Alexei's height. Instead he nodded his head toward the players' exit.

"No joke. Let's get a drink. I've got a car outside."

Kent looked serious.

"Why?" Alexei asked. "If you want gloat, gloat here. Fighting easier in hallway near medic room."

"I don't want to fight. I want to drink. I promise I won't gloat." Kent brushed his hand through his hair to get his stray bangs away from his face. It only helped for a few seconds before they flopped back down, and the motion drew Alexei's attention for longer than he wanted it to. It was probably the sole reason he nodded and said:

"Fine. Just need text Zimmboni."

"Zimmboni?" Kent asked and his entire face crinkled with incredulity. "Really?"

"You want me come drink or no?" Kent put his hands up in the air and Alexei took out his phone.

      **Alexei**  
     Got other ride. See you tomorrow.

Kent led the way to the car that idled outside the players' exit. He opened the door for Alexei, who refused to accept the gesture and instead waited for Kent to enter. Alexei followed behind and Kent said the name of the bar without hesitation, as if they were in his home rather than Alexei's.

"You drink in Providence often?" Alexei asked.

"I've been here before," said Kent with a shrug, "and this bar provided me with plenty of drinks when I needed them, and you can trust me on that."

"I don't trust you at all," said Alexei. "What do you want?"

Kent let out a frustrated sigh and turned on Alexei. "I'm not a bad person. It's important to me that you have the right impression of me. I don't know why it bothers me as much as it does but what you've heard —" Kent paused and glanced at the driver. "I'll explain when we get there."

Alexei didn't push, but every passing moment of silence caused him to regret the decision to agree to this. He had, however, and was stuck for at least one beer and a conversation, then he could cut out and take a cab back home. The team didn't need to leave until nine the next morning, which was nice, but it was already midnight and no one ever let him sleep on the plane.

Alexei had never been to Kent's choice of bar, but as soon as they entered it was clear why Kent decided on this place. It was busy but not crowded, and while there was a counter with stools and patrons standing around pool tables, most of the seating consisted of private booths with high walls. After ordering a beer for each of them, Kent led Alexei to a corner booth the next room over, completely isolated and utterly private.

Kent didn't seem to be in a hurry now that they were there. He sat in the curve of the round booth, his feet propped up on the cushion across from him, his neck resting on the leather lip of the seat back. Alexei looked at his watch: twelve-thirty.

"So what you need explain, Parson?" Alexei asked impatiently.

"What do they call you?"

Kent turned his head to the side in order to be able to look directly at Alexei, who sat a comfortable distance from him, but still close enough to hear. The booth was private but the music was still loud. Kent had already made bold statements about Alexei's personal life with no regard to potential eavesdroppers, so Alexei needed to be near him to ensure they weren't overheard. Also, Kent's feet were preventing him from moving further away.

His face was relaxed, open, honest. He looked a little sleepy and Alexei could only blame the fondness of his gaze to the exhaustion. The light that hanged directly over their booth was flattering, casting warm golden light onto the curves of Kent's skin. Alexei looked at the pint of beer in front of him in an attempt to suppress the tactile representation of that warm golden light, which had now planted itself in his chest.

"What you mean?" Alexei asked.

"Your team. They don't call you Mashkov, right? What do they call you?"

"Tater," Alexei admitted into his beer before he took a long sip. Kent laughed with his entire body and Alexei only glanced at him through the distortion of the clear glass.

"Tater? Where the hell do you get Tater from Alexei Mashkov?" Alexei set his glass down on the table with an impatient clank.

"Mashkov. Mashed potatoes. Tater," he explained. "What do they call you?

"Parser."

"Parser?" Alexei asked incredulously. "Why not call you Parson? What point of Parser? Same name."

"Don't knock my name."

"Don't knock mine," repeated Alexei. "You wanted to explain self to me, _Parser_. Explain. I have flight in morning."

"Relax, Tater," said Kent, but then he crinkled his turned-up nose and shook his head. "Nope, I can't do it. It's too stupid. What do they call you at home?"

"Is just me at home," said Alexei.

"No, at home with your family. Although it's nice to know I'm not making someone wait up," said Kent. He sat up and took a long sip from his pale colored beer; when he returned the cup to his table, he was smiling.

"In Russia everyone call me Alyosha," explained Alexei. "No one say Alexei. My mother always call me Alyoshenka when she happy."

"Why is your nickname longer than your real name?" Kent asked.

"In Russia no need to rush through names," said Alexei. "My father always call me Alexei Olegovich. My mother when not happy call me Alexei Olegovich. What your father name?"

"Greg," said Kent.

"You Kent Gregorovich, but Kent not sound right. Kent would be Kenya or Kenny."

"There are people who used to call me Kenny," said Kent with a stiff shrug. "Not anymore."

"You not like Kenny?"

"No," said Kent and he looked into his beer instead of at Alexei, taking his eyes off Alexei for the first time since they got into the car.

"Then you Kenya Gregorovich."

"That's hilarious," said Kent and he looked back at Alexei, his stupid, flirtatious smirk back on his lips and his eyes back where they had been all night. "Are you going to start calling me that now? Kenya Gregorowhatever?"

"Kenya Gregorovich. I can call you Kenyushka."

"Maybe we can stick with Kent for now," said Kent. "Keep the Kenyushkas for when we actually know each other." Alexei raised an eyebrow.

"We are going to know each other?"

"If you want," said Kent. "If you're not too tired. You do have a flight in the morning."

Alexei could feel the heat spread through his skin. It was entirely too warm in this corner of the bar, and he wanted to unbutton his shirt to let some air in, but didn't want Kent to misinterpret the action. It had been a long time since he let himself know anyone.

"You had something you want to say to me," said Alexei again. "You say you not a bad person. I not think you anything at all until you spend entire game harassing Jack for no reason."

"Listen, Alexei. Alyosha. Tater. Whatever the fuck your name is. I've known Jack for many years. He and I were very good friends. We knew each other very well. Then the draft happened and I went first, and that ruined him. He should have withdrawn before it happened, we talked about him withdrawing, but he stuck through it and then he — then THAT happened." Kent removed his feet from the booth but instead of sitting upright, he just curled into the curve of the seat and attempted to become smaller than he already was. "And then I didn't see him for months. I never got an explanation. Here we are two and a half years later and he still refuses to explain, and he still refuses to talk to me. So yeah, I'm done with him, but don't tell me I'm harassing him, and don't tell me I have no reason. I may take my aggression out on him when we're on the ice but I leave it there. He takes it everywhere he goes."

"And that makes you not bad person?"

"Do you think I'm a bad person?"

Kent rested his head on the back of the seat again, looking worn and pathetic and unnecessarily desirable.

"Not sure," said Alexei. "Maybe I need know you better."

"You live around here?" Kent asked.

"No. Half hour away."

"My hotel's down the street."

"Let me finish beer first," said Alexei. Kent returned his feet to the seat, the tip of his right dress shoe resting against Alexei's knee. Alexei placed one hand atop it while he tipped back the rest of his beer with the other.

 

***

 

The next morning Alexei departed the hotel before dawn, leaving behind his phone number and _Alyosha_ on hotel stationary. It was October before they met again, in Providence first this time, and there had been no contact in between. The night before their match up, Alexei was making dinner for himself when the text came through:

      **702-555-9020**  
     Half hour north or south

He stared at the number, confused, but after he googled the area code he had his answer. He updated the contact and texted back.

      **Alexei**  
     South

      **Kenya**  
     You busy?

      **Alexei**  
     Making dinner. You like cabbage? 

      **Kenya**  
     No, gross. Stop what you're doing I'll pick up something

      **Kenya**  
     And text me your address

Kent appeared forty-five minutes later with cheeseburgers and fries so greasy they were disintegrating the paper bag. When Alexei opened the door and let him in, Kent dropped the brown bag onto the table in the foyer, took one look around, and then crashed his lips against Alexei's. Alexei's back hit the wall with the kind of force that reminded him of their fight nearly a year ago.

"Why you bring cheeseburger?" Alexei teased in between kisses. "Cabbage so much better for you."

"Cabbage smells like ass and if I wanted to eat ass I'd bend you over. But I don't want to bend you over, I want you to bend me over," Kent said into Alexei's mouth. "Upstairs?"

"Upstairs," said Alexei. Kent grabbed the food and bolted up the stairs, Alexei hot on his heels. There were four bedrooms on the second floor and Kent had no idea where to go. Alexei placed both of his hands on Kent's narrow hips and guided him around the corner, along the railing that lined the staircase, and into a white room at the end of the open hallway. Kent threw the food on the dresser and then pulled Alexei onto the large four post bed that dominated the center of the room. Alexei fell willingly.

Within seconds, Kent's hands were everywhere. He removed Alexei's T-shirt and was pulling off his running shorts before Alexei had even opened one of Kent's buttons. Kent didn't have time for buttons — he yanked his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor, then assisted Alexei with the zipper of his jeans. "In such a hurry, Kenyushka," said Alexei.

"Just want you," said Kent, and he stepped out of his jeans and boxer briefs in one motion before he climbed on top of Alexei; Alexei saw the heat in Kent's gray eyes, the laser focus of desire, before Kent pressed their lips together. Alexei responded hungrily, pulling Kent down against him and wrapping his arms easily around Kent's body. Kent was slim yet compact, as if all of the muscle in Alexei's body somehow fit into his Kent's smaller frame, which was why it was no surprise when Kent easily rolled them over so Alexei was on top instead. Alexei slid his hand down Kent's chest, across the center line of his abdomen, and wrapped his fingers around the thick, leaking cock that lay there. Kent let his head fall back onto the pillow underneath his head and exhaled a gratified moan.

"So you want me bend you over?" Alexei whispered into Kent's ear before placing his lips on Kent's neck. Kent arched his head to the side to allow more access before breathing out, "Fuck, yes," in reply. Alexei kissed across Kent's neck, behind his ear, and to the back as he rolled Kent over onto his front. Alexei's right hand slipped around Kent's waist and between his legs, where Alexei found him already loose and accepting of Alexei's long fingers. Instead of commenting on how obvious it was that Kent wanted this to happen, Alexei opened the drawer of the stand next to the bed and pulled out both a condom and a bottle of lube. He threw the lube onto the bed and opened up the condom to roll onto himself.

Alexei began to trail his kisses down Kent's lithe back, touching lips to tender skin until he reached the curve of his not unshapely ass, and then proceeded to lick a stripe right down the center of it. Kent groaned again into the pillow in front of him, and Alexei returned up to his ear to whisper, "Not taste like cabbage."

Kent burst into giggles, his entire body shaking underneath Alexei, letting out several high-pitched titters that dissolved into one long moan when Alexei lubed himself up and slowly sank in. Kent pushed himself up onto his knees, Alexei moving with him, arching his back and bucking back at Alexei to go deeper. "Fuck, Alexei," he muttered, "fuck, I just need you to fuck me."

Alexei did, teasing in short, shallow thrusts, which caused Kent to push back in an attempt to control the rhythm and intensity. Alexei grabbed both of Kent's hands, securing Kent's body underneath him and holding him in place. Kent groaned again and tried to move, but Alexei had a tight hold on him, so Kent lowered the top of his head back to the pillow in front of him and yielded to Alexei's pace.

"Dammit, Alexei," he said. "Go faster."

"Faster?" Alexei asked without going faster, enjoying the slow slide of wet heat surrounding him. It was like slipping into the sun on the first warm day in spring, into light the color of Kent's hair, and Alexei wanted to enjoy the warmth of it before it became too overwhelming.

"Yes, faster, fuck. Come on."

Alexei relented with a kiss to the back of Kent's neck. He let go of Kent's hands, knelt upright, and grabbed hold of the sides of Kent's hips to drive himself faster and deeper. Kent groaned again, his hands in his hair, and said, "Yes, like that, Alexei." Alexei was getting entirely too close already; with Kent lowering his upper body toward the bed, the angle felt perfect to slide completely in and almost completely out, and Alexei hadn't been able to feel this since January. Alexei slowed to prevent himself from coming too soon. Before Kent could complain, Alexei reached around Kent's waist and hooked his fingers around Kent's cock.

"Fuck," Kent said again, but didn't complain about the speed. Alexei pumped him to a different rhythm than his slow, driving thrusts, which made Kent even more vocal. Alexei worried about his neighbors, just for a moment, but he didn't have the ability to hold a thought outside of what was in front of him, underneath him, around him. "Fucking dammit, Lyosha."

The sound of his name from Kent's mouth sent him over the edge, and Alexei came inside of Kent, grunting through gritted teeth and feeling embarrassed that he couldn't last longer than just a few minutes. Kent just collapsed his shoulders into the pillow and let Alexei continue to pump him. Kent directed Alexei faster until he too came, shooting onto the rumpled duvet underneath him. Alexei pulled out slowly, holding the condom in place, and then grabbed the food off the dresser after he threw it away.

The fries were soggy and cold, but the burger was two patties of greasy goodness. They ate under the covers in the bed, licking mustard and ketchup off their fingers since Kent had selfishly used all of the napkins to clean himself up. After Kent wolfed down the entirety of his burger and half of the disgusting fries, Alexei wiped his fingers on his chest and said, "I out by you in two weeks already."

"Yeah, I hate it when they do that," said Kent, sucking his own fingers and drawing Alexei's eye while he did it. "I get that we're not in the same conference and we're just playing each other out of formality, but why put distance in between them at all then? Why not just have us play two games back to back and be done with it?"

"Probably not work out that way. Lots of teams in league."

"Too many teams in the league," said Kent.

"Says Captain of newest team."

"Hey, I'm not saying my team needs to go. I'm just saying they could shave it down a bit, or maybe make the season longer. I know teams get burnt out in the spring and everything but I'd be happy playing every day. I'd rather play every day."

"This not everything to everyone, Kenya," said Alexei. "Some people have wives and families they want to see." Kent snorted and then tossed the empty, grease-ridden bag toward the trash can on the other side of the room.

"So you're really going to call me Kenya, huh?" Kent asked.

"Kenya or Kenyushka, yes."

"Should I call you Uganda, then? Democratic Republic of Congo?"

"No," said Alexei, and he remembered the thrill of emotion he felt when Kent used his nickname. "Lyosha just fine. Just when alone, though. Don't want check your ass and have you shouting 'Lyosha' across ice."

"Pfft, like you're going to check my ass anywhere except in here," said Kent. "I don't know if you remember our last game, what with the amount of memories I'm sure you had to repress from it, but I mopped the floor with you guys."

"Mopped the floor? We beat you game before."

"But barely, and only because you seemed hell bent on breaking my nose."

"I break your nose AFTER we score," said Alexei, but he looked at Kent's perfectly straight nose and was thankful he didn't actually break it. "We still won."

"Um, I'm sorry. Where were you in May? Here in your seaside villa while I was in the playoffs again?" Kent asked.

"Maybe so, but you lose bad in Western Conference Final. No go to Stanley Cup final."

"Better lose in conference final than not get to play at all."

"Ouch, Kenya. Ouch. After I treated you so good, too," said Alexei. Kent smiled and turned on his side to face Alexei, one hand propping up his head, the other snaking underneath the covers toward Alexei's leg.

"I suppose," said Kent with a squeeze just above Alexei's knee. "Maybe I give you something you want, then, huh?" Alexei looked directly at Kent, whose face looked equally smug and conniving. It was more than enough; Kent sucking on his fingers had been more than enough. Alexei nodded, and Kent disappeared under the sheets.

 

***

 

Snow flurries had begun in Providence when Alexei left, but when they touched down in Vegas, it was too warm for even a blazer. The short walk from the plane to the bus left Alexei dripping sweat into his collar, which he tugged at, regretting the decision to wear a tie. Jack didn't wear a tie, and Jack also didn't wear an undershirt. There was a reason Jack was the captain.

Jack was quieter than usual, but it was more than just the heat that kept him that way. Alexei hadn't asked more questions about Kent Parson, not from Jack and not from Kent, and it was getting to the point where Alexei hoped neither volunteered any more information. He'd known Kent too intimately now to want to hear stories about how Jack had been in the same place, because as much as Kent was intriguing, Jack was not. Alexei liked Jack too much for that sort of thing to get in the way.

Alexei had texted Kent from the plane, but didn't receive a reply until they were on the bus, Jack just to his side. Alexei turned the screen of his phone away, just enough to be discreet without being obvious with his discretion. Jack wasn't paying attention anyway.

      **Kenya**  
     I'll be home by seven 

It was almost six o'clock already, so Alexei would have time to check into the hotel with the rest of the team and make it to Kent's house not long after Kent got home. They were flying out immediately after the game the following evening, which was disappointing, but they were due to play Vancouver with no break in between, and crossing the border always took longer than necessary.

"You want to get dinner?" Jack asked when the bus arrived at the hotel.

"Um," said Alexei, and he realized quickly that he didn't have an excuse prepared. "No."

"No?" Jack asked, but despite Alexei's rudeness, Jack was actually smiling. "We're day one into the roadie, T. You've got two more weeks. Don't tell me you're sick of me already."

"Always sick of your face, Zimmboni," said Alexei, and he sent a quick status text to Kent while hiding his phone. "We get dinner in Vancouver."

"All right. I'll come by your room in the morning."

"I meet you at arena," said Alexei and Jack's eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't press further.

Alexei took a cab toward the outlying residential area of Las Vegas. Kent, like Alexei, lived about a half hour away from the stadium, but while Alexei rented a condo that was more about location than space, Kent's house reminded Alexei a lot of the Vegas version of the place Jack had moved into during the off season. It was a surprise; Alexei expected Kent to live in a penthouse apartment on the Strip, in the middle of the action and walking distance from alcoholic beverages and buffet food. Instead he lived in a large house with a giant, well-manicured yard and a circular driveway. The house itself was full of harsh, straight lines, squares and rectangles, the same stucco color as most of the homes the cab passed on the way.

The cab took off before Alexei could ring the doorbell. When he did, Alexei could hear it resounding through the depths of the house. Kent opened the door a moment later, all smiles and sparkling eyes,  dressing Alexei up and down before he suddenly ducked down. "Kit, no," he said, "don't you even think about it."

Alexei looked down and Kent had grabbed hold of a gray cat who was attempting to sneak through the open door and Kent's legs. When Kent lifted her she meowed ferociously and swatted at him with her paw; her underside was white and she apparently did not like being in a position to allow others to know that. Kent nodded Alexei inside, who entered and closed the door swiftly behind him. Kent deposited the cat onto the marbled floor of the amber colored foyer, and she darted off to another room.

"Sorry, she always has to try to escape when the door opens," explained Kent. They remained in the foyer, Kent surveying Alexei again, his green eyes landing on the bag slung over Alexei's shoulder. "You expecting to stay the night or something?"

"Yes," said Alexei.

The left side of Kent's lip curled upward. "Awful presumptuous of you, don't you think?" Before Alexei could attempt an explanation, Kent had pressed him against the front door and sunk to his knees before him. Alexei let the bag drop onto the floor and stared into the depths of the house without actually seeing them.

They had dinner together in Kent's gigantic kitchen. Everything looked brand new, with the potential to accommodate the entirety of the Las Vegas Aces, yet since Kit bolted away when Alexei arrived, Alexei had yet to see any other living soul in the house. It seemed to take ages to get anywhere, the kitchen a hike from the foyer, the foyer at the base of stairs that twisted up and out of sight. Everything was spotless, and Alexei wondered how much Kent spent on cleaning services.

"Why such big house?" Alexei asked.

"Why not?" asked Kent. He sat on top of the counter across from the island, where Alexei had perched himself on a barstool with the comfort of a leather couch.

"Just you here, yes?" Alexei asked. Kent nodded.

"Well, I have Kit. Wherever she is."

"Must be lonely, here all by self. So many large rooms with no one in them. Everything so clean, like no one ever here."

"You know how it goes," said Kent with a shrug. "We travel so much, and when we're not it's games or practice or press, so sometimes it feels like I'm not here. Cleaning lady comes once a week, usually when I'm gone. Some of these rooms I've literally never stepped foot inside since I moved in. There are rooms in the back there somewhere that I have no idea what's in them. But, I have a kickass house with everything I could ever want. I have my own movie theater. I have a workout room. I have a pool the size of your fucking condo, and my bed is the stuff of dreams. Just you wait until I fuck you on it, you're going to bust a nut as soon as you kneel down."

Alexei raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you think you fuck me this time?"

"My house, Lyosha, my rules."

"So I come to Vegas and get fucked, but when we in Providence I fuck you?"

"I think I like that," said Kent.

"I okay with that," said Alexei with a shrug. "But after fucking I want swim in pool."

"After I fuck you, you're going to want to sleep for a week," said Kent, and Alexei snorted. "We'll go swimming after dinner."

Alexei looked at the reheated plate of well-balanced food in front of him. It was the model of what a meal was supposed to look like; lean protein, vegetables, and fruit. Very little starch or sugar. Kent mentioned he had a day cook who'd put together something for dinner for them, and Alexei had to admit it was good, albeit much more nutritious than the last time they shared a meal.

Kent stuffed the last bite of chicken into his mouth before he dumped his plate into the sink next to him, then he hopped off the counter and headed over to Alexei, who was biting the florets off stalks of broccoli. Kent leaned his elbow onto the counter next to Alexei, watching him finish his meal. Alexei looked over; Kent's wild bangs fell onto his face again, over his eyebrows and into his line of sight. Kent blew a current of breath upward in an attempt to clear them away, but they just fell right back. Alexei reached out a hand and tucked them safely away, where they still separated from the rest of Kent's flow of hair, but at least were out of his eyes.

"Thanks," said Kent, looking at him with less hunger and more warmth than Alexei was used to seeing from him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah?" Alexei asked.

"Yeah. You're right. It is a big house."

Kent ate the stumps of broccoli that Alexei left behind, then cleared the plate and headed toward the sliding glass door that led to the patio. "Come on," he said. "Let's go swimming."

The pool was warm from the beating heat of the sun, but still refreshing. The pool was rectangular, the length half that of Olympic regulation, with a square jacuzzi hot tub up a step on the southwest corner of the patio. It was entirely too warm to sit in a hot tub, but Alexei made a note of it in case they played the Aces in true winter during the following season. He swam a few laps, Kent by his side, before he settled on a step in the deep end and watched Kent float by, majestically naked, his skin speckled with droplets of water that glistened in the light of the setting sun.

They stayed in the pool until nightfall when the patio lights flickered on and they were both pruny, which was when Kent joined Alexei on the step, sitting on his lap and gently kissing him, Kent's hands in Alexei's dark hair. There was no hurry or agenda here, just Kent's soft lips on Alexei's, holding and touching each other until Alexei was so turned on he couldn't handle just kissing any longer. Instead of simply holding Kent around the waist, Alexei dipped his hands down Kent's back and between his legs, causing Kent to pull away.

"Nuh-uh," he said, punctuating the denial with a short, wet kiss. "It's my turn." Kent slid off Alexei's lap and back under the water. Alexei could see his blurry form, illuminated from underneath by the pool lights, as Kent turned and swam toward the shallow end. When he emerged, he was thirty feet away. He looked over his shoulder and Alexei watched the water drip off the end of his nose as he smiled with bright white teeth. "You coming?"

"You first," said Alexei, and he watched, one hand wrapped tightly around his erection, as Kent waded through the water and stepped up, up, up onto the stone patio floor. His body was a long, lean muscle, forming a steep V toward his hips, where his ass curved pleasantly. His thighs were thick and taut, the strongest part of him, and Alexei's eyes lingered there as Kent walked away, knowing he was being watched.

"Lyosha," he said, his voice lilting across the length of the pool, wafting into Alexei's ears and beckoning him like a siren call. "Come be with me." Alexei had no choice but to obey.


	3. Three

Alexei was home alone when the Aces won their second Cup. He lay on his couch, his hand propping up his head, as Kent Parson took selfies with teammates, a black 2012 STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONS hat covering up the worst of his cowlick and sweaty blond hair. Alexei watched, stuffing popcorn in his face, as Kent was awarded the Conn Smythe. Alexei dusted crumbs off his T-shirt when Kent was handed the Stanley Cup first and skated a lap around the T-Mobile arena, the Cup over his head, a sold-out audience of Aces fans cheering his victory.

He expected to be jealous; the Falconers had done very well that season, making it to the second round of the Playoffs before getting knocked out by Pittsburgh, and the loss after six games left Alexei hungry for the treasure that Kent held in both hands. However, Alexei found himself looking at Kent's beaming face, his bright gray eyes, his smile and cheekbones and small little nose. Kent wouldn't be able to look at his phone for hours, and they hadn't spoken since November, but Alexei ached in an odd sort of way, so he sent a text before he could talk himself out of it.

      **Alexei**  
     Congratulations Kenyushka. Winning look good on you.

Alexei set the phone down and jumped when it buzzed just a moment later. He looked at the television again; Kent was still on the ice but at this point had handed off the Cup to someone else.

      **Jack**  
     Ugh. Are you watching this?

Alexei sighed; he was happy for Kent. He wasn't in the mood to be convinced that he shouldn't be.

      **Alexei**  
     They deserve win. Almost sweep every series.

      **Jack**  
     He looks smug.

Alexei glanced at the television again and Kent was leaning in to hear the question from the reporter over the sound of the crowd still cheering. He had his lopsided smile on his lips, completely and utterly happy. When Kent replied, Alexei watched his lips but didn't hear a word.

He decided not to reply to Jack.

It was five-thirty in the morning when Alexei awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. The buzzing stopped just as Alexei lifted his head and opened his eyes. He groaned and lay his head back down, but then the buzzing began again. He fumbled on the nightstand, picked it up, and glanced at the blinding display, which read _Kenya_.

"Kenya?" he asked, his voice hoarse from slumber.

"Lyoshaaaaa," said Kent. "Alyosha. Al — Alo — what was it you said your mother called you?"

"Alyoshenka."

"Too many syllables," said Kent. "Too drunk for so many syllables. Why does syllllable have so many syllllables in it?"

"I don't know, Kenya."

"Lyosha, I miss you."

Alexei swallowed hard because he did too.

"I want to know," said Kent, and the timbre of his voice lowered to a level that caused Alexei's blood to change direction, "how good winning looks on me?"

"Look very good, Kenya."

"No, other name. Use the other name."

"Kenyushka?"

"Kenyuuushka," said Kent. "That's my favorite name."

"It's your name, Kenyushka," said Alexei.

"It's my favorite because you call me that," said Kent. "But answer my question. How good does it look on me?"

"Where are you, Kenya?"

"Home. Drunk as fuck but home. I don't remember how I got here. I think — I think Swoops drove me? Or maybe we had a driver? Fuck, I hope he's not still here. Whatever, he's probably passed out. Tell me, Lyosha. I want you to talk me through this. How do I look?"

Alexei shifted to his back and tucked his free hand under the covers, where he was already hard just from a few of Kent's slurred words. "You look like…like happiest man. Like you can do anything and nothing can stop you."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Makes me want you," Alexei whispered, and his hand began to move, gripping himself tightly as he thought about Kent's uncontrollable smile and crinkling cheeks.

"Yeah? You got me. What are we doing together?"

"Are we here or there?" Alexei asked.

"Hmm," pondered Kent. "There. In your bed."

Alexei was slightly disappointed by this; it would have been easier to imagine them in Kent's bed, because Alexei could easily look to the side and see that Kent was not actually in his. Kent's bed had not disappointed; Alexei was fucked into soft, silky oblivion like Kent had promised. Alexei's bed was big but not comparable, though the covers were warm and well-worn. Alexei closed his eyes and shimmied further down so he could lift his knees and plant his feet.

"You on top of me," said Alexei. "Hard and dripping. I've got you open already."

"How'd you open me up?" Kent asked breathily.

"I did it when you arrived. I bent you over table in front room. Spread you open and put my mouth on you. Ate you out until you begged me to fuck you."

"Fuck…yeah, you did. Then we went upstairs to the bedroom?"

"Yeah," said Alexei, pulling harder on himself. "You pushed me down and climbed on me. I looking up at you. You sit slowly down on me."

"Fuck, yes. Then what?"

"I got hold of you. You got hands on my arms and I push up in you. Hard. Fast like you always ask." Alexei thrust his hips up, pushing his cock over and over into the tight grip of his fist, seeing Kent staring back into his eyes, groaning and biting his lip as Alexei pegged him again and again.

"Fuck, yeah, you know how I like it. You got me steady on you? You got me?"

"I got you, Kenyushka," said Alexei.

"Fuck. Fuck! Fuck, why aren't you here right now? Fuck, Lyosha, I want you inside of me right now."

Alexei opened his eyes; he was close to finishing but his hips fell back onto the bed and he loosened his grip on himself. He was still hard and aching in his hand, but it wasn't the same. He'd watched all of the Aces' games during the Playoffs, but the crippling yearning hadn't occurred until Kent held the Cup over his head. Alexei was at home alone and Kent was all the way on the other side of the country, three time zones behind, and Alexei's bed was cold and empty.

"I want to be inside of you right now," Alexei whispered.

"Lyosha," Kent replied, the heated want less evident in his voice. "Lyosha, I need you to make me come. You're still inside me. I'm on top of you. What happens next?"

"I still thrusting," said Alexei, but he was no longer thrusting into his hand, "but I take your cock in my hand. Tug you just right so you make that sound." Kent whined and Alexei smiled unhappily. "Yes, that sound. You close?"

"Yes," whispered Kent.

"I go harder," said Alexei. "I hit you just right and you yell in my ear because you're close."

"Fuck, yes, I'm so close."

"I tug on you faster and I can feel you start to come." Kent's breath hitched and he began to swear, and Alexei knew it was over. "And you come on my stomach and breathe happy because I fuck you just right."

"Yeah," whispered Kent. "Yeah, you do."

There was a long silence.

"Congratulations, Kenyushka," said Alexei. Kent didn't reply; Alexei could hear his slow, even breathing. "I miss you." Alexei hung up the phone. There was no getting back into the mood himself; he turned over and, eventually, fell back asleep.

 

***

 

In December, Alexei saw Kent again in Providence. Kent remembered little of their late night conversation, but remembered enough that he wanted to be on top this time.

In March, Kent returned the favor in Vegas.

Both teams were knocked out of the playoffs in the second round.

 

***

 

The following October Jack and Alexei had breakfast before the plane left for Vegas. Alexei had already texted Kent about dinner; Kent wouldn't be home until late, but wanted Alexei ready and waiting for him when Kent arrived. Alexei was thrumming in anticipation and definitely did not want to thrum in front of Jack Zimmermann, but Jack showed up with a jug of just-add-water pancake mix and real Canadian maple syrup, so Alexei had to let him inside.

They made pancakes together in the kitchen and Jack didn't say much, but Alexei knew why he was there. Their usual hangouts happened after practice or on days off and frequently consisted of video games or runs on the boardwalk. There was never anything this early and rarely comprised of a meal that needed more than a quick minute in the microwave. Alexei let Jack be silent as they finished up the pancakes and sat at the table in the dining room to eat them.

Alexei was one bite in when Jack spoke up. "You ever been gambling, Tater?" Jack asked.

"One or two time," said Alexei. "Not since I been in America."

"We get in kind of early. You want to go out tonight?" Alexei purposely shoved a full pancake in his mouth to give him time to think about how to answer the question. "I've never been. I feel like blackjack is a bad idea, but we could play a few slot machines. I'll even let you buy me a beer."

Alexei didn't like where this was headed. Drunk Jack liked secrets.

"I don't know," said Alexei after he swallowed. "Been hard few weeks. Maybe just stay in tonight."

"We just started the season. Don't tell me you're tired already. We're not even five games in."

"I old man, Zimmboni," said Alexei. "No longer rook."

"That is true," said Jack. "We can just stay in if you want. Watch a movie or something. I just figured it'd be fun."

"No, you should go out with guys. Take Marty to slot machines. Marty can be Canadian good luck charm."

Jack stared across the table at Alexei, and Alexei waited for Jack to call him out on his bullshit. "We're friends, right, T?" Jack asked instead. Alexei nodded.

"Of course, Zimmboni. We best friends. Maybe only friend." Jack cracked a smile and Alexei sighed; Jack was a good captain and directed everyone well, but Jack barely knew anyone on the team. "Why you ask if we friends?"

"Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you," said Jack. "I guess it doesn't matter, really. We play well together."

"We do," said Alexei. "This year our year. All the way to the end, Zimmboni."

"All the way to the end," said Jack, toasting Alexei with his glass of orange juice. "You sure you don't want to go out tonight? This may be the last time I suggest it. Ever."

"I make you come out another time," said Alexei. "We play Panthers for New Year. I take you clubbing on beach to ring in 2015."

"Ugh, no," said Jack, crinkling his nose.

"Ugh, yes, you mean," said Alexei. Jack rolled his eyes and they continued to eat their pancakes. Alexei watched him, waiting for Jack to ask more questions, but the moment had passed, and Alexei was still able to hide.

That evening Alexei lay in Kent's soft bed, the sheets sliding like water over his bare skin when he moved. Kit had found him there before Kent came home, and surprisingly she hopped up onto the bed and settled into the crook of his body. He scratched her behind her ears and she purred before she fell asleep. Alexei unwillingly followed a few moments later, but was awoken by a soft chuckle in the doorway.

"Well isn't this the cutest thing ever," said Kent, his eyes on Kit instead of Alexei. "I think she likes you, Lyosha." Alexei sat up, which disturbed Kit. She arched her back and pawed at the sheets before she rubbed up against Alexei's stomach, just briefly, and then ran away. Alexei watched her run to Kent, where she wove in between his legs, rubbing against him as well, then disappeared out the door. Kent watched her go before he turned back to Alexei, his eyes sweeping over the form of Alexei's body underneath the cream colored sheets. He immediately began to take off his suit jacket; Alexei got distracted by his chest and the juncture of his belt and his shirt until Alexei remembered what had happened just that morning.

"I have question for you, Kenya," said Alexei.

"Well make it quick, Lyosha, because you are looking fucking hot under those sheets," said Kent as he began to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves.

"What happened with Jack?"

Kent paused, his hand to his cuff, and looked directly into Alexei's eyes.

"I told you what happened with Jack."

"You said you knew him well. You say you got no closure. What happened?" Kent's movements turned impatient and he ripped at his cuff in an attempt to unbutton it, then pulled the tails of his shirt out of his pants and yanked the entire thing over his head.

"I don't want to talk about Jack right now. We both have to be up early tomorrow and then I have to get on the ice and play both of you like I've never fucked either of you before. That's fucking hard, because I look at you and I just… and I look at him and I remember how angry he makes me, and at least that I can use. At least with him I can punch him in the face if it gets too much." Kent unbuckled his belt and threw off his pants, then climbed into the bed and directly on top of Alexei. Alexei slid his hands down the side of Kent's body, settling onto his hips. Kent traced the outline of the thin gold chain Alexei wore around his neck, sending shivers into Alexei's skin and outward toward his extremities. Kent smirked at the sight. "Can't we just do it and then fall asleep?"

"Yes," said Alexei, "if you tell me what happen with Jack."

"Dammit, Alexei," said Kent, sitting back, clearly annoyed. "What the fuck do you want to know? He and I were together. We couldn't be out because we were in the Q. It's like here. You can't say this shit to people. But we liked each other and fucked each other and then he fucking overdosed and I —" Kent hid his eyes with his hand and Alexei didn't push him to move it. "And I found him, and he almost died, and then I had to come here. He got better but he stopped talking to me, and I don't know what I did wrong. I still don't know what I did wrong."

"Did you love him?" Alexei asked.

Kent dropped his hand; his eyes were wet but he hadn't attempted to move from Alexei's lap.

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Because I think you did," said Alexei.

"Does it matter?" Kent deflected again. "He never loved me." Alexei placed his hand on Kent's arm, but Kent shrugged it away and looked at the time. "It's late. Let's just go to sleep."'

Alexei didn't resist when Kent climbed off of him and tapped the control on the nightstand. The room went dark and Alexei barely saw the form of Kent lying down, facing away. Alexei turned toward him but Kent visibly tensed, noticeable even without light, and Alexei let him be.

 

***

 

Alexei and Kent met again for the first game in April. It had not been the Falconers' year; Snowy, who had been on fire for all of 2014, got a concussion from a well-timed hit in late December, and their back up goalie wasn't perfect. Now with just a handful of games left in the regular season, each point mattered, and even if they finished out the year with a perfect record, it was possible they'd still lose their wild card seat to the Canadiens.

The Aces, on the other hand, were well on their way to the best season in team history. They went all of March without a loss and had easily clinched their division title. The rest of their season didn't matter, since they were so far ahead that even straight losses wouldn't bump them down from their number one seed. Which was why Alexei was frustrated the entire evening when the Aces once again mopped the floor with them, and was why Alexei punched Kent in the face with just over a minute left in the game.

Kent didn't take the bait. He let Alexei hit him, guarded himself from a serious injury, and Alexei was given two minutes for roughing, forced to watch the end of the game from inside the box. An hour and a half later, Alexei headed back to the parking lot to go home when Kent found him in the corridor. He had a small cut just over his right eye and Alexei felt guilty for placing it there.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Kent said before Alexei could speak. His tone was low and cautious; the arena wasn't quite as empty as it was after their first fight. "We played maybe ten minutes of the same shift all night and I never touched you. Why did you punch me in the face?"

"I just frustrated," said Alexei, and he glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming. No one was coming. "Why you have to play so good? Already clinched playoffs."

Kent groaned.

"Seriously? You punched me in the face because I played too well in a game you wanted to win? That's hockey, Lyosha, and you know better. You play well because you come to work to do a good job. You don't slack off because you're ahead."

"Still," said Alexei. "Didn't have to play so well."

"Are you mad at me or mad at yourself? And your team?" Kent asked.

Alexei glanced at the cut on Kent's forehead again, below the black backwards hat he wore to cover his still damp hair, and then looked down into Kent's eyes, which were sparkling in the sparse light of the exit corridor. Alexei was not mad at him. They'd had a good start to their year and he couldn't control the injuries that dragged them down. However, Alexei smiled, which caused Kent to smile.

"Very mad at you," said Alexei.

"Yeah? You want to go home and take it out on me?"

"Yes."

So Alexei did, to the best of his ability, but afterward Kent lay beautifully underneath him, breathing heavy, his hand over his face, his eyes closed. Alexei stared at him, the way that Kent's open fingers covered nothing at all, because Alexei could still see the redness in his cheeks, the slack of his mouth as breath after breath escaped it, the turn of his nose, the peace of his closed eyelids. Alexei kissed him, gently, not lingering too long on his lips, and when Alexei opened his eyes again, Kent was looking back.

"What?" Kent asked.

"I not really mad at you," said Alexei. Kent emitted a quick, breathy laugh.

"I know, Lyosha."

"Are you mad at me?" Alexei asked. "For what I ask last time?"

"Do you even remember what you asked last time? We haven't seen each other in months," Kent asked, and Alexei frowned.

"I remember everything we do," Alexei said.

"Yeah?" Kent asked, and he looked directly in Alexei's eyes. "Me too." Alexei kissed him again and then they stayed like that all night, a tangle of limbs and muscles and breath, waking up stuck together and very disappointed to say goodbye. They said goodbye, however, like they always did, and Alexei watched Kent saunter down the front walk to the awaiting car, the sunlight reflecting off his shades, his hand further mussing his hair. He glanced over his shoulder at Alexei, who leaned against the door frame to watch him, and nodded his chin slightly before he disappeared inside the car.

 

***

 

He wasn't sure when the turn happened, but after Kent left in April, Alexei found it more and more difficult to spend his nights alone. The desire to text Kent flared daily, especially after the Aces were unexpectedly swept in the first round of the playoffs by Anaheim. Alexei watched all four games, staring at Kent as he threw temper tantrums on the bench, got into fights, and eventually, stared into nothing when he realized the series was out of his control. Alexei hid his phone between the couch cushions and changed the channel when the outcome was clear.

Over the summer Alexei decided to paint his condo as a method of distraction on a bad day. With the rest of the team dispersed across the country, or even across the globe, it was frequently a boring time of year. Alexei could have gone home to Russia to visit his family, but his hometown was a sad and quiet place, and his parents had never been proud of him. Despite his recent contract renewal and the addition of a no-trade clause, he wasn't a captain or an alternate captain, and he had yet to win a Stanley Cup. There was no reason to go back to Russia.

Jack was the only other person in town, at least the only other person that Alexei liked, so after Alexei purchased the painting supplies and covered all the furniture with plastic tarps, he called up Jack and asked him to help.

"You know that there are people you can hire to do the painting for you," said Jack.

"You know you spoiled rich boy, Zimmboni?"

"Fine, I'll be there in a half hour."

Jack showed up in running shorts and one of his four thousand Falconers T-shirts. Alexei was beginning to tape along the baseboards in the living room. Jack picked up a paint can from the floor. "Orange?" Jack asked. "You're painting the room orange?"

"Not orange. Bellini Fizz. And not whole room, just that wall orange. Rest of room gray." Jack turned up his nose but didn't say anything and instead helped Alexei finish the rest of the taping. Jack set to work on the gray wall and Alexei set to work on the Bellini Fizz wall, which was actually much more of a peach than an orange. They were two hours into it and everything apart from the section above the fireplace was complete when Jack said something.

"How well do you know Kenny — euh — Parse? How well do you know Parse?"

Alexei stared at the X of peach paint in front of him and wondered what about this moment made Jack finally ask the question. Alexei took a breath and continued to roll.

"Some. Why you ask that?"

"It's just — you have an Aces hat here," said Jack. Alexei turned and Jack pointed at a hat that sat on an end table underneath a plastic drop cloth, protected from the paint but clear as day. Alexei forgot it was there, but it had been there since April when he sucked Kent off on the couch before thoroughly fucking him upstairs in the bedroom. Alexei looked back at Jack, who looked more disappointed than angry.

"Yes, he was here," said Alexei. He finished the final square of paint on the Bellini Fizz wall.

"What does that mean?"

"Does have to mean anything?" asked Alexei. He picked up the pan of paint, his roller, and the edging brush before he headed toward the utility room. Jack followed and Alexei could feel his presence as he turned on the water and began to wash the paint off the supplies. Jack waited, silent, until everything was clean. Alexei turned back around. "He a friend, Z. He and I been friends few years now. No big deal." Jack raised his eyebrows.

"You remember what I told you, right?" Jack asked.

"Is problem that he and I friends?"

Jack sighed. "No, but I wish you'd told me. You can be friends with whoever you want, Tater. I just don't like him."

"Why? What happened?"

Jack retreated and Alexei followed him back to the living room. There were still two walls left to finish. Jack picked up his roller again and continued painting. Alexei waited for him to speak.

"It's not his fault," said Jack after a long delay. "He just wasn't good for me. I had a lot happen at one time and I didn't have room for him too."

"You ever tell him?"

"No," said Jack. "I never spoke to him again. I just needed to be away."

"So why you say you not like him? If he did nothing wrong?"

Jack lowered the paint roller and looked over his shoulder. "Because he represents everything that I hated about my life," said Jack. "And it's easier to hate him than to hate me." Jack returned to the wall and Alexei watched as he finished one and moved on to the next, drawing a large X and filling it in. "Are you going to tell him?" Jack asked.

"No," said Alexei. "Not my life. Not my conversation to have."

They finished the room in silence. That was easy to do with Jack, since Jack spoke so little, but also because Alexei never felt the need to replace silence with noise when Jack was around. It was easy to just be with Jack, and Alexei wondered if in the future it would be easy to just be with Kent. The thought made him put down his edging brush and glance at his phone. Six more months until they saw each other again.

 

***

 

The Falconers played the Aces in Vegas in January. Jack didn't ask Alexei his plans for the evening so Alexei didn't have to lie. In February, just before Valentine's Day, the Aces came back to Providence. It was a horrible, cold day, the first brutal day that winter, and the game was just as bad. Alexei scored a goal and an assist, but it wasn't enough to match the Aces' five points. Kent smirked at him as they exited the ice, which made Alexei want to punch him again, but when their eyes connected Alexei felt Kent's warmth radiate through his skin. It was enough to alleviate the violence rising inside of him and remember that Kent had texted him several suggestions for how to spend their evening, and suddenly Alexei wanted to skip press and just go home already.

He dawdled longer than usual to go back to the dressing room, so by the time he arrived, interviews had already begun. Most of them huddled around Jack, as usual — the media tended to swarm Jack as the captain and face of the franchise, but it was always worse when they played the Aces. People knew the history between Jack and Kent, and Alexei wondered if that would ever go away. Jack usually ended up in a foul-but-still-media-pleasant mood whenever Kent's name was brought up, but when Alexei passed, Jack let out a genuine laugh in response to a question from a short, blond reporter. Alexei startled; he'd never heard that kind of sound from Jack before, not even when drunk, not even when happy. Jack continued to laugh with the blond reporter, and then answered his question. The reporter was young, probably an intern, with a small build but large eyes. Jack stared at him as if Jack had never seen a boy before. It was endearing but when the interview wrapped and the reporter turned around, Alexei saw a significant similarity to Kent, and it left Alexei unexpectedly jealous.

There wasn't a clean getaway when Alexei was free to leave; Jack and the press boy were still chatting, Marty and Thirdy were arguing about something loudly in the corridor, and Alexei had no choice but to walk back to his car alone. It was freezing outside. He huddled deeper into his jacket; it had been too long since he lived in Russia, and he'd forgotten how to be truly cold. He started his car and blasted the heat. When he could feel his fingers again, he unlocked his phone to see a text from Kent.

      **Kenyushka**  
     I'll meet you there. Swoops won't leave me alone.

Alexei drove home and made it there first. He threw a few logs into the fireplace and started the kindling around it; the heat was on and it felt warm in the living room, but it was definitely a night for a fire. Kent came through the front door just as the flames caught on, letting out a loud "UGH!" into the foyer.

"Lyosha?" he called.

"In here, Kenyushka."

Kent appeared in the doorway. "It's cold as fuck outside," said Kent. "This is why I live in Vegas. Is that a fire?" Kent's eyes darted past Alexei to the crackling in the fireplace. He smirked as he unzipped his jacket. "You trying to woo me, Lyosha? I appreciate the ambiance but you know I came here to fuck you, right?"

"Hey," said Alexei with mock disdain, "I do something special for Valentine's Day." He gestured to the clock, which had just ticked past midnight. "Why you no bring me flowers?"

Kent's smirk slid off his face and he left the room to hang his jacket in the hallway closet. When he returned his shoes were off and his tie was loose. "I didn't know I was supposed to bring you flowers," he said without humor.

"Chocolate okay too."

"That's not what I meant," said Kent. He sat on the couch rather than on the floor with Alexei. Alexei turned around.

"Okay, just joking. Did not expect to make you mad."

The light was low in the room; Alexei could see the shadows from the flames dancing on Kent's somber face. Kent ran his hand through his hair, purposefully upsetting it, and the strands from his cowlick fell over his forehead.

"What are we doing here?" Kent asked.

"Sitting," said Alexei, and Kent sent him a sharp look. "Being together. Like every year when we in same town."

"Yeah, but what does that mean?" Kent asked, and Alexei thought of when Jack asked the same question in this same room. "Does that mean fucking two times a year or does that mean Valentine's Day flowers and fires and the rest of it? Because I don't know how to do that. We live on opposite sides of the country. We travel every day eight months out of the year. And we can't tell anybody about us."

"No," said Alexei, shaking his head, "but do people need to know?"

"No. I just need you," said Kent. "I just need to know that this is it for us. That when we go to bed in whatever cities we happen to be in, that I'm thinking about you and you're thinking about me." Kent looked directly at him. "Do you think about me?"

Kent looked heartbroken, his eyes red and wet and desperate for an answer that wasn't no. Alexei shifted to kneel in between Kent's legs, just an inch or two shorter than him. Kent worried at his lip, drawing Alexei's attention, but Alexei focused away from it and looked into Kent's light eyes.

"I always think about you," Alexei said. "Every night."

Kent sat back and looked at the ceiling in an attempt to control his emotion. "I don't know why I care so much. We barely know each other."

"We know each other for long time, Kenyushka," said Alexei, sliding his hands up and down Kent's legs. "We know each other well enough. I know you enough to say I just want you. There no reason for anyone else."

Kent looked down at him and smirked; Alexei knew that well enough by now too. "How much do you want me?" Kent asked. Alexei rolled his eyes but leaned forward to rest his head against Kent's stomach, his arms wrapping around Kent's waist.

"I thought we being romantic, Kenyushka," said Alexei.

"Blow jobs can be romantic," Kent replied, and Alexei snorted. "Nah, for real. You've got this nice fire going, it's cozy and warm in here but freezing outside. Perfect time for you to suck me off. I'll call you baby and everything." Alexei closed his eyes and felt the gentle touch of Kent's fingers in his hair. "I think about this a lot," Kent whispered, his tone changing, his flirtation gone.

"About blow jobs?" Alexei asked.

"No — well, yes, about blow jobs — but I mean I think about you, like this," said Kent. Alexei opened his eyes and rested his chin on Kent's stomach to look up at him. "About your hair. It's really soft."

"Is just black hair," said Alexei. "Not light like yours. You have so much light." Alexei settled back onto Kent's stomach and wondered how it would feel in ten years, or twenty years, when their careers were over and they could lay like this for real. He wondered if Kent would get soft here, give him a pillow to settle on when he wanted to just hold his Kenyushka. Alexei rested there, listening to Kent breathe, and whispered "Я тебя люблю," which caused Kent's fingers to freeze in his hair.

"I know what that means," said Kent. Alexei didn't move, but the smile on his face was uncontrollable.

"How you know what that means?"

"Because I love you too," Kent replied, his fingers brushing one more time through Alexei's hair. "And I wanted to know how to say it to you." Alexei held Kent tighter around the waist and Kent sighed, resting his hand on Alexei's back, and the two of them stayed there together, holding each other, until the fire burnt itself out.

 

***

 

In late June, after the media storm of the postseason settled down, Alexei packed his travel suitcase with as much as it would fit and took a flight across the country. Kent had texted that morning, asking Alexei if he had any plans for the off season, if he was thinking about finally going back to Russia and seeing his family. Alexei had not responded.

It was hot in Vegas when Alexei landed; not the normal hot that accompanied March or October, but hot hot, the kind that melted plastic when left outside too long. Alexei changed his shirt in the bathroom at the airport before he got into the car, which really didn't help. The sun beat on his exposed shoulders and there was nothing for it; he just couldn't be outside.

He arrived a half hour later as the sun was beginning to set. It didn't help the temperature so Alexei hoped Kent was actually home, because he didn't have a key and Kent probably didn't leave the door open for him, since Kent had no idea he was coming. Alexei rang the doorbell and waited, beads of sweat beginning to form in the delay between the bell and the door opening.

Kent appeared on the other side, immediately raising his hand to block the sunlight behind Alexei's head.

"Lyosha?" he asked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Thinking not enough," admitted Alexei, frowning slightly. "Can I stay for summer?"

Kent broke into a large grin, the kind that caught onto Alexei's lips until they were beaming at each other over the threshold of Kent's too-large house. Alexei noticed movement at Kent's feet; Kit bolted through Kent's legs and Alexei bent down to pick her up before she escaped. She protested with a loud meow, but allowed Alexei to hold her.

"See?" Kent asked. "She likes you."

"Can I come in? It hot."

"You know, Loshya, if I knew you wanted the summer I'd come to Providence. It's hot as balls out here."

"Let's go in pool. Cool balls down."

"You bring your swim trunks?"

Alexei smiled a dirty smile. "No."

"Good."

Alexei entered the house and let Kit out his arms once Kent closed the door. Kent pulled Alexei up against him, Alexei lowering his forehead to touch Kent's, and before they continued, Kent breathed him in and said, "Can you just stay forever?"

"Yes," whispered Alexei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://foryouandbits.tumblr.com/)!


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